


Many Happy Returns

by cosmogyral_mad_woman



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Rimming, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, johnlockstradarollyler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogyral_mad_woman/pseuds/cosmogyral_mad_woman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John forgets who he's talking to when he jokingly mentions wanting an orgy for his birthday. Sherlock aims to please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Many Happy Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Much, much love for [quietborderline](http://quietborderline.tumblr.com/) whom I love dearly. Thank you for being my friend and beta. <3 I am excited to see what kind trouble we can get ourselves into in the future. *grins*
> 
> This is a prompt fic from tumblr. I'll post the prompt at the end. This is not Britpick'd. If you'd like to take a whack, lemme know. I hope it satisfies.

John had spent the day on pins and needles. Not literally, of course, but he'd been anxious and unable to really listen to his patients. His mind kept sliding back to his conversation with Sherlock in bed the night before. Sherlock had asked him what he wanted for his birthday and he'd said rather glibly, “I want to come home to an orgy. Haven't had a good orgy since I came back to England.” He had forgotten who he was speaking to, obviously. Sherlock had stared at him for an interminable moment, his gaze completely unreadable. Just when John was going to apologize, Sherlock had smiled his most predatory smile and said, “I'll see what I can do.” He'd left the bed quickly, throwing on his clothes and leaving despite John calling after him. John did not sleep that night.

 

When it was finally, _finally_ , time to punch out and go home, he did so, with more than a bit of trepidation. Instead of heading directly home, he found himself stalling, for what he didn't know. He fiddled with his keys. He considered finding a cafe for a bite, though a pub and a pint sounded far more restorative. He took the scenic route home. He even considered stopping in the park to watch the ducks, but in the end, he found himself on the stoop of 221B staring at the knocker. _Stop this. You've no idea if he even took you seriously. He may have been playing with you. For all you know, he may not even be home. Dear, god. I don't know which I'd rather have more._ His thoughts were snarled and it took him longer than he'd like to gather his courage before he was able to blow out a breath and open the door. When his foot hit the first stair he heard it. A woman's moan followed by a harsh cry. Loud and very much not in pain. He could hear the sound of hot, wet skin slapping against skin and his heart began to pound. _Happy Birthday to me_ , he thought as he began to ascend the stairs. The sounds of multiple people having sex intensified as he got closer and closer to the door. His hand shook a little as he reached for the handle.

 

The smell of sex hit him like a ton of bricks as his eyes began to register the writhing bodies around the sitting room of his flat. Greg had Molly bent over the back of John's chair and was ramming himself into her from behind. It had been her cries that he'd heard as he'd come up stairs. On the couch was Irene Adler, lying on her back sucking gently on a blonde pussy while she pushed a large dildo into it. John could not see who said pussy belonged to, but her ass was shapely as well as red from repeated spankings. Neither couple paused in their sessions to acknowledge him, too lost in the sensations running rampant through their bodies. John felt like he'd walked into a porn film. He allowed his eyes to continue to roam, finding Sherlock sitting in his chair, the King of his surroundings, casually pulling on his magnificent erection as he watched John take in the room. Sherlock was the only one of the participants who was still clothed, his tight purple shirt still fully buttoned and his cock and balls only just out of his trousers.

 

“Hello, John. Welcome home. How was work?” Sherlock's voice was only a bit deeper than normal, his tone completely devoid of his very obvious passion. It was surreal.

 

“Uh. Good. Yeah. Good. You?” John took off his jacket, watching Sherlock wank. In his periphery, he saw Irene's head fall to the couch to smile at him, her mouth wet and glistening. The blonde taking her ministrations turned her head to look at him and he recognized Mary Morstan, the new receptionist from the surgery. On the other side of the room Greg paused to give him a little wave before pounding faster than ever into Molly's heat. Molly was still too lost to pay him any attention, her cries getting louder as Greg hips moved.

 

“My day. Well, you can say that I accomplished quite a lot, really. Come here, John.” John shuffled closer to Sherlock, his eyes on the glorious cock in front of him. “Where would you like to start? It is your birthday, after all.”

 

John's eyes shot up to look at the smug bastard seated in front of him. “Yes. Though it would appear everyone else is already occupied. Right here is as good a place to start as any.” John dropped himself gently to his knees and quickly engulfed the cock jutting before him into his mouth, tearing a cry from Sherlock's lips. He felt the other man's fingers slide through his hair and pull him down farther until his nose brushed the immaculately groomed hair at the base of Sherlock's penis. The sounds and smells around him, hot, wet and rich, had made his own erection painful in his pants and he spared a hand to rub it through his trousers. He needed to take off his clothes. He felt so very warm. He bobbed and slurped, enjoying Sherlock's pants and pleas. He hadn't registered the lack of sound to his right until he felt wet lips on the back of his neck and hands wrapping around his chest, reaching for his buttons.

 

“Happy Birthday, John.” Irene whispered into his ear, her teeth tugging on the lobe. The lips on his nape were still there, as were the hands on his chest, but they were joined by Irene's hands at the zip of his trousers. It sounded like Greg and Molly were still at it, so he figured that he had the attention of both Irene and Mary. He tried valiantly to keep up his rhythm on Sherlock's cock, but the feeling of soft lips on either side of his neck and hands caressing him as they disrobed him was incredibly distracting. Sherlock seemed to take pity on him and released his head. He came up off of the man in front of him allowing the saliva he'd accumulated to drip down the flesh he'd vacated, giving Sherlock his eyes as he did. John leaned back onto his heels to find both women kneeling on either side of him looking at him as if they wanted to have him for dinner. Or more likely, for dessert. When he stopped moving, they pounced, licking and biting at every piece of exposed skin they uncovered.

 

He let them take off his clothing, moving as needed to kick off his shoes and remove his pants and trousers. By the time he was nude he was stood before Sherlock, who was once again pulling on his cock, and two very attractive women reaching for John's. At their touch his eyes closed and his head fell forward. Expert hands and mouths toyed with him, teased him until he was panting and begging. He had a hand on each of their heads, fingers knotted in their hair as they destroyed him. He startled a bit when he felt the callous roughened fingers tweak at his nipples and a beard-stubbled chin brush the bend where his neck met his shoulder. His eyes snapped open to see Molly saunter over to Sherlock, throw one leg over his hips and slide down onto him. Molly bounced on Sherlock's cock as Sherlock continued to watch John's ravishment, sliding his hands up to cup her breasts as he fucked the girl automatically. Greg took that moment to bite John, hard, on the neck before sucking a love bite into his flesh. Greg moved behind him, kissing, licking and biting him along his spine moving slowly down towards his cleft.

 

John's brain was overloading on sensation. He now had three mouths paying him homage and the sight of Sherlock thrusting into Molly in front of him was driving him crazy. Someone tapped at his left ankle and he dutifully lifted it, not able to tear his eyes from Sherlock. When he was allowed to set his foot down, he found it lifted by a step stool, giving Greg better access to his pucker. And oh, what he did when he got to it.

 

Consumed. It felt like John was being consumed and he had never wanted it more before in his life. The press of lips on his arsehole, the swirl of tongue on his frenulum and the sensation of each of his balls being suckled was unlike anything else in his experience. His grip on Mary and Irene's heads tightened. They and Greg's grip on his hips were the only thing holding him up now. His pants and moans had become continuous, interspersed as they were between shouts of “Jesus!”, “Fuck!” and “Bloody Hell!” Greg had stiffened his tongue to begin stretching him. It honestly wouldn't take too long at the rate he was going. He heard the snick of a plastic lid opening and felt the cool lube pressed to his pucker as first one, then two of Greg's thick fingers stretched him. He'd completely lost the ability to form words at that point. All he could do was moan and grunt and pant. He was one giant nerve ending, feeling pleasure surge through him constantly. When Greg found his prostrate, he shouted nonsense to the room and his lovers soothed him with sweet kisses and nips of their teeth. His cock was painful, red and weeping. He needed to come. Greg removed his fingers and John felt empty until he felt the press of flesh behind him and the insistent cock at his rear. He bent slightly, sliding his hands from the ladies **'** heads to their shoulders. Greg pressed slowly into him, resting his head on John's back and cursing.

 

“God, mate. You are so hot and tight. Jesus, the feel of you.” The pleasure of being filled so fully was immense. Greg began to move, thrusting his hips slowly to finish the stretch. The women timed their sucks and licks with John's reactions to make him alternately want to push back onto the cock stuffing him and thrust into their eager mouths. He was getting so close. At a glace, he could tell that Sherlock was as well. Molly appeared to be one of those that came incredibly easily and she was once again shouting her pleasure to the world as she spasmed and shook on Sherlock's lap. Sherlock's face was was contorted with pleasure, the flush high on his pale cheeks. He was watching John as much as John was watching him, each taking satisfaction in the others enjoyment as they raced for the pinnacle.

 

Greg pounded into him, brushing his prostate every few thrusts and shooting sparks behind John's eyelids. One moment he was poised on the edge, seeing and experiencing everything around him with crystal clarity- Greg's shout as he came inside John, Irene and Mary taking turns sucking hard on his cock and playing with each others pussy all the while, Sherlock losing himself in Molly as she collapsed back onto him- and the next he was coming apart, splitting at the seams. He couldn't remember his name, let alone where he was.

 

When he finally returned to earth it was to find himself laid on the carpet, Greg curled behind him. Irene and Mary were licking his come from each others faces and breasts. Sherlock and Molly were still collapsed together in Sherlock's chair. He had the brief thought that this was the best birthday he'd ever had **,** and was likely to have in the future. Well, he did say likely. With Sherlock as his partner and with his friends, you could never be too sure what they'd come up with next. He was curious as to what would happen in round two, if he was able to move ever again. It was sure to be... educational.

**Author's Note:**

> 'johnlockstradarollyler  
> john + sherlock + greg + mary + molly + irene adler  
> someone write me every porn ever, i will prompt you. i can’t handle all those g.d. pronouns.'


End file.
